VIP's Revenge , livre ebook

4 Horsemen Publications, Inc. - Lynn Chantale

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57 pages

English

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Blind does not mean helpless.

Friends Penelope and Amelia have faced challenges their entire lives, but they didn't expect being hunted by a maniac hellbent on ridding the world of successful blind people to be one of them.

The way Mr. VIP sees it, he's waited long enough to seek revenge on those who have wronged him. After breaking out of jail, he hopes to join forces with other like-minded criminals to carry out his plan. But can there truly be honor among killers?

When both Penelope and Amelia's sighted husbands are kidnapped, the women know they are going to have to face off against Mr. VIP and his band of villains. But they refuse to be afraid. They are not easy targets and will not go down without a fight.

Sujets

Romance

Romance policière

Fiction

Contemporary

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Publié par	4 Horsemen Publications, Inc.
Date de parution	27 octobre 2022
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9781644506455
Langue	English
Poids de l'ouvrage	1 Mo

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0300€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

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Table o f Contents
Acknow ledgements
Prologue
C hapter One
C hapter Two
Cha pter Three
Ch apter Four
Ch apter Five
C hapter Six
Cha pter Seven
Cha pter Eight
Ch apter Nine
C hapter Ten
Chap ter Eleven
Chap ter Twelve
Chapte r Thirteen
Chapte r Fourteen
Epilogue
Author Bio
Book Club Questions

VIP’s Revenge
VIBE a Steamy Romance S eries # 6
Copyright © 2022 Lynn Chantale. All rights r eserved.

4 Horsemen Publicatio ns, Inc.
1497 Main St. S uite 169
Dunedin, FL 34698
4horsemenpublicat ions.com
info@4horsemenpublicat ions.com
Cover and Typeset by S . Wilder
Editor Bla ir Parke
All rights to the work within are reserved to the author and publisher. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise, except as permitted under Section 107 or 108 of the 1976 International Copyright Act, without prior written permission except in brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. Please contact either the Publisher or Author to gain per mission.
This is book is meant as a reference guide. All characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. All brands, quotes, and cited work respectfully belongs to the original rights holders and bear no affiliation to the authors or pu blisher.
Library of Congress Control Number: 20 22940449
Print ISBN: 978-1-644 50-646-2
Audio ISBN: 978-1-644 50-644-8
Ebook ISBN: 978-1-644 50-645-5

Acknow ledgements
E very book has a bunch of people behind the scenes who help. I’m always appreciative of my publisher, 4 Horsemen, and my editors. This time I want to say a special thank you to the owner and trainers at Top Performance Gym: Sam, Bill, Fran, Jen, Josh, Coyle, Troy, and Robin, thank you so much for your dedication and passion for giving those with a disability a chance at a real workout and not taking it easy on us. Thank you for treating us as people.

Prologue
M r. VIP pushed his glasses more firmly on his nose and surveyed the two unconscious men on the floor of the makeshift prison. The shapes were blurred, so Mr. VIP stepped closer to the bars. His vision improved and he could see the men more clearly. One had shoulder-length sandy brown hair, with half of the strands obscuring the man’s face. The other man, black and bald, was sprawled on his back, with stained, dried blood on the collar of his shirt.
These two men, Joshua Hastings and Avery Cheathams, respectively, caused him serious trouble, trouble which had cost him his opportunity to destroy two of the most influential blind women in the community. Perhaps without these two men mucking up his plans, Mr. VIP could finally get rid of the baker and t he lawyer.
“If we kill them now, we don’t need to worry about someone guarding them,” a snide, masculine v oice said.
Mr. VIP barely spared the man a glance. “Isn’t he,” VIP indicated the sandy-haired man, “the reason why you’re in jail?”
“W ell, yes.”
“They’re sighted, and they’ve foiled the plans I had for Penelope and Amelia. With them out of the way, I will be able to succeed in my plans.”
“I’m telling you we should get rid of Hastings. He’s crafty and a soldier.” This was from the fourth man lingering in the shadows. “I’m all for you getting your revenge, but Hastings need s to die.”
Now Mr. VIP turned to face the corner and the speaker shrouded in the darkness. “I appreciate your help, but I got this.”
“I’m with him. Hastings has caused me nothing but trouble,” the snide voice agreed. “The only reason you’re free right now is because of me. I don’t want these two dead; I want them to suffer. The best way to do that is to kill their women.” He stared at the sallow-skinned man. He was already thin and haughty, but forced confinement lent a gray pallor to the man’s face and made his body gaunter. “No one is forcing you to be here. You’re fr ee to go.”
“Where am I going to go without money? That bastard,” he stabbed a finger at Joshua, “too k it all.”
Mr. VIP smiled. “Then I guess we’ll just have to ransom them off.”

C hapter One
O n any other day, the sweet scents of chocolate, vanilla, and lemon would be a comfort to Penelope Bishop. However, this wasn’t any other day: this was the day her husband, Avery, hadn’t come home, hadn’t shown up to open the bakery at 4 a.m., and hadn’t returned any of her texts or phone calls. So here she was, pretending all was well when her mind created one gruesome scenario after another. The only saving grace was the bakery was busy.
Penelope was too busy to worry, and somehow between customers and baking cookies, she managed. Avery hadn’t come home last night, which was so unlike him, especially when he was supposed to open the bakery this morning. Did something happen to him, and emergency personnel don’t know who he is so they could contact me? Or did he decide married life wasn’t for hi m anymore?
She dismissed the last thought as quickly as it had come. Avery spent months wooing her, and he still found ways of making her fall in love with him every chance he got, like leaving little love notes in braille in her apron pockets or a single flower on her desk. His latest gift had been the pair of silver hoop earrings she was wearing now. She touched the jewelry, then went back to folding boxes. She then donned gloves and filled the boxes with several dozens of cupcakes.
Carefully, she stacked the boxes, then carried them to the window between the kitchen and the main portion of the shop. Laughter, the tinkle of chimes, and the occasional ding-ding-ding of the card reader filled the air. Just another day at PB &J Bakery.
The bakery had been in her family for four generations. The last thing she wanted to do was shame her family with a bad decision.
The only way her family had agreed to her running the business was to have an assistant. The fact she could manage every aspect of the bakery without sight was beyond her parents’ comfort level. It didn’t matter she’d spent most of her life in the kitchen before she finally lost her sight at 15; all that mattered was proving to her parents and herself she could maintain the profitability of their legacy. Hiring Avery was part of the compromise—and the best decision of her life. Somehow, with his self-assuredness and open mind, he made her days and nigh ts normal.
But it wasn’t a normal day at the bakery because Avery wasn’t there. Penelope paused as emotion clogged her throat. She breathed deep to keep her emotions in check.
Where could he be? Is he lying in a ditch somewhere, dead or dying?
“Hey P? There’s someone up front asking for you,” a female voice called through t he window.
“Just a sec,” Penelope called back. She finished filling the cupcakes and then carried the boxes through the double swinging doors. “Becky, there’s a couple trays of cupcakes that need to go into the case.”
“I’ll grab them now.”
A hand touched Penelope, and sh e stopped.
“Right behind you,” B ecky said.
Penelope stepped forward and set the boxes on top of the display case. She pasted what she hoped was a pleasant smile on her face. “Who is here t o see me?”
“Are you the owner?” a pleasant male vo ice asked.
“I am.” She turned toward the voice. “What are you selling? You sound a little too old for the Boy Scouts’ popcorn.”
The man chuckled. “You’ve a good sense of humor. I can see why he l ikes you.”
The first fingers of apprehension tickle her spine. She tucked her hand in her front apron pocket and closed her fingers around her collapsible cane. If all else failed, she did have a weapon at the ready. “To whom are you r eferring?”
“Oh, I’m sorry. Avery and I go way back. I just thought I’d drop in and see how he’s doing.” Something metallic clinked on the case. He must have placed his hands on the top. “This is a really nice place you h ave here.”
“Yes, it is,” s he agreed.
“It would be a shame if something happened to it,” he continued convers ationally.
Penelope stiffened. “The last person who threatened me ended up in jail.”
He chuckled. “Oh no, you misunder stood me.”
“Then clarify,” she sa id coldly.
The double doors squeaked as Becky came back out. “Got the cupcakes and I put the cookies on trays while I was back there. I’ll bring those out in a sec.”
The soft slide of the case doors and a cool blast of air floated along Penelope’s r ight side.
“Gage Bedford will come in a little later and help me in the kitchen.”
The doors slid close. Becky placed a hand on Penelope’s arm. “Are you okay? You look a lit tle pale.”
“I’m good,” she assured her employee. “Go grab those cookies, and I’ll finish up here.” Penelope waited for the swinging doors to squeak before she returned her attention to the man. “And y our name?”
“I can see you are very busy.” Footsteps retreated on the tiled floor accompanied by the jangle of keys. “I wanted to warn you.”
Penelope had enough. She extended her cane and walked through the half door separating the case from the main floor, following the sounds of the man’s progress. “Allow me to escort you from the premises.”
The man gasped. “You’re blind? Oh, Christ on crutches. He married a blind woman.” He chuckled before it turned into a loud, boisterous laugh. “ Too rich.”
Who is this fool? Penelope wondered. And how does he k now Avery?
“Penelope?” a younger male voic e queried.
“Gage.” She tried not to let the relief in her voice show. “Could you escort this gentleman from the premises and make sure he doesn’t c